


The Witch From Next Door

by VillainVogue



Series: A Rose By Any Other Name [1]
Category: The Worst Witch (TV 2017), The Worst Witch - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F, Happy Ending, I don't know how long this is going to go but I'll try not to make it too much of a slow burn, Mentors, Multi, Secret Identity, love triangle that turns into polyamory
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-22
Updated: 2019-02-13
Packaged: 2019-05-26 19:45:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15008036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VillainVogue/pseuds/VillainVogue
Summary: In which Mildred accidentally finds herself a magical mentor before she even discovers she's a witch, and a witch hiding in the Ordinary world comes to find out that she's not quite as alone as she thought. Also, Julie Hubble gets not just one witch for a girlfriend, but two, and Hecate Hardbroom gains a proper family.





	1. Mildred

This is how Mildred Hubble, age six, acquired a witch for a babysitter, and much, much more.

* * *

 

In hindsight, all the hints were there that Miss Morrigan, who lived next door and mostly kept to herself and lived in an apartment containing shelves and shelves of mysterious old books, many strange plants, and an ill-tempered black cat, was a witch.

At least, this is what Mildred Hubble thought to herself at age eleven, staring down at a test for a witching academy with some very familiar questions about magical history. But Mildred Hubble at age six didn't have witches on her mind when she knocked on her new next-door neighbour's door. She'd only wanted something interesting to do, and in her defense, she'd been left unsupervised.

Miss Katie, her babysitter for the night, had fallen asleep in front of the television with a death grip on the remote rather early in the evening. So, Mildred had gathered her box of crayons and a sheaf of paper and set out to make friends with the 'unsociable' lady next door--that was what her Mum had called her, when she'd gone over to try and welcome her to the building.

Mildred wasn't so sure of that. Probably their neighbour was just grumpy, she thought. Anyone would be if they were alone all the time. So it would have to be up to Mildred to show her how to make friends properly--she was good at that.

A tall woman with a long brown braid, wearing a long blue dress, opened the door at Mildred's knock. She frowned down at her. "Shouldn't you have some form of adult supervision, little one?"

Mildred nodded. "Miss Katie fell asleep and Mum won't be home until nine-thirty. I'm Mildred, I'm six. What's your name? And can I come in and wait for my Mum with you?"

And really, Miss Morrigan could have gone and woken up the babysitter, and left Mildred back with her.

And really, even though she'd sighed and frowned and argued before finally inviting her inside, Mildred could tell she was only pretending to be irritated and put-upon. She could see Miss Morrigan smiling once in a while, when she thought Mildred wasn't looking.

She'd simply sat and encouraged Mildred to draw, that first night. But after Mildred had badgered her Mum and Miss Morrigan into allowing her to come over whenever Mum was working late, Miss Morrigan had started drawing, too, and eventually telling stories, and playing make-pretend.

Except, as it turned out, many of those stories were real, and Mildred's play-acting at witchery had just been practice for the real thing--though of course Mildred hadn't known that at the time. She'd only realized it all later, at age eleven, looking at the Witching History section of her entrance exam at Cackle's, and finding that certain names and events bore far too many similarities to Miss Morrigan's stories to possibly be coincidental.

After the practical exam and everything suddenly going wrong, Miss Cackle had asked her how she'd gotten those three (and a half) answers right, despite her Ordinary background. Mildred had played it off as 'lucky guesses', uncertain as to whether she ought to mention Miss Morrigan, who was clearly even more secretive than she'd known. The sour-faced Potions teacher had seemed unconvinced, and so had Miss Cackle, but it didn't matter--they weren't going to let her into the school, anyway.

...Except, of course, even later, when Mildred saved the school (really, she thought, the cat did most of the actual work in defeating Agatha, but she'd certainly helped), Miss Cackle changed her mind. And Mildred's Mum was summoned to the school. And then the situation with Miss Morrigan was important again.

So naturally, the first thing Mildred did upon returning home was to knock on her door, recount the entirety of what had happened during the day, and finish with "And that means you're a witch, right? And so am I, apparently. But I'm really far behind everyone else at Cackle's, so will you help me catch up? Please?"

Miss Morrigan sighed, and frowned, and looked as though she wanted to argue. Then, as usual, she stepped aside to let Mildred come in.

* * *

 

And that was how Mildred, age eleven, acquired a tutor in all things magical.


	2. Julie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is how Julie Hubble discovers just how many secrets her next-door neighbour is keeping.

In the span of five years, Rose Morrigan had gone from the solitary figure living next door, seen only in passing, to one of Julie's closest friends.

Not close enough, apparently, for her to tell Julie anything about herself--not until recently. But, she supposed, it would be difficult to get someone from the Ordinary world to believe that their next-door neighbour of five years is a real-life witch. She couldn't begin to imagine how such a conversation would go, really, even with someone you were becoming close with.

No, she couldn't fault Rose for keeping that particular secret. And it explained a lot, anyway--the misty-eyed look when Millie had gone trick-or-treating at her door in a pointy hat and cloak and greeted her with a 'well-met'. The stories. The long dark dresses. The obvious apprehension at using modern technology, like it was all from a different world.

It certainly explained her reluctance to talk about her personal life, or her past. But Julie had learned a lot about Rose nonetheless--she'd discovered that Rose hated having to wake up for early mornings at the small bakery she worked at, but loved the art of baking. Making something with her own hands, something that required precision and focus and allowed her to shut out her own thoughts, something she felt she could be proud of creating. She'd discovered that Rose preferred tea over coffee, red wine over white, poetry over prose. She'd learned that most of Rose's family was gone and she didn't speak much with the rest, that she'd gone to boarding school, that she'd never married.

And now, she'd learned that Rose was a witch.

Millie was excited about it all, of course, and rightly so. But she hadn't given any thought as to why her babysitter (and now tutor) was living an Ordinary life in the Ordinary world. Julie had, but she hadn't come up with any solid theories.

But she let Rose have her privacy, for the time being--that was another thing she'd learned. Her witchy neighbour wasn't one for direct confrontation, so Julie knew she had to be patient and let Rose come to her if she wanted to find out anything of value.

Sure enough, about two months into the school term, Rose had knocked on her door, a bottle of wine in hand, and told her everything.

She told Julie about her father, how he'd pressured her to marry. How he'd tried to set her up with every eligible wizard in Britain over the years, and how she'd managed to turn them all away (and not always politely). How her final suitor, Edward Blackthorn, had proved too persistent. How she'd been forced to tell him the truth--that she wanted a witch, not a wizard.

And she told Julie how terrified she'd been of his reaction, the threats he'd made against her and her loved ones should she continue to refuse him. How she'd packed up all her belongings and fled her home in the night, how she'd stayed in a cramped hotel room for months before finding a job that didn't care about her lack of references. How she'd come to feel safe again, finally, with the Hubbles. How glad she was that she could restore her connection to the magical world through Millie. How grateful she was to be able to confide in Julie about all of this, and how sorry she was to drop such a burden on her, too.

So, Julie had thought, that was that. The full story.

But then, a couple months later, when they'd just ended a mirror call from Millie (who had insisted they both be present for such things, whenever possible) where she'd brought up her recent victory in the Spelling Bee, Rose went quiet. Or rather, Julie realized belatedly, she'd been quiet almost the whole time.

"Rosie? Is something on your mind?" Julie prompted, reaching out to top up both their wine glasses (red for Rose, white for Julie--they disagreed about a great many things when it came to matters of taste).

She watched as Rose curled her fingers around the stem of the glass to pick it up and stare into it for a long moment.

"There's more I haven't told you, Jules. About who I am and where I've come from. And I think I ought to tell you. You deserve to know the whole truth."

Everything about her posture radiated tension--Julie could almost feel herself getting a headache from simply witnessing it. She reached for Rose's free hand.

"All right. But only when you're ready, love."

The tension eased, just a fraction, but enough for Julie to see the difference. Rose took a deep breath, and squeezed her hand.

"I think--I am. Ready, that is..."

* * *

And that was how Julie Hubble finally learned _everything_ about who her next-door neighbour really was.


	3. Mildred (again) and Ada

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is how Mildred Hubble solves a mystery at an inopportune moment.

She'd come back to save the school and help her friends, but as usual, something had gone wrong And as usual, that something had involved Ethel, who was now a purple cupcake and probably about to be eaten and Mildred couldn't do anything about it because she was locked in Miss Cackle's office.

She'd expected far worse, when the door did open moments later, but she certainly didn't expect _Miss Morrigan_ to be the one to enter.

...Except she didn't quite look herself, or at least, not the 'herself' that Mildred was used to. She'd changed her hair rather dramatically, and was in all black instead of blue. And she looked about as anxious as Mildred felt.

"Miss Morrigan? Thank goodness you followed me, I don't know what to do!" She'd filled her tutor in on all that she'd witnessed. "But how did you get past the wards? I thought only students and staff could get in without an invitation."

Miss Morrigan nodded, her gaze and the corners of her mouth both twisting downwards. "Yes. Well. I never formally resigned, so... I thought the school's defenses might still recognize me. I was correct in that assumption, it would seem."

And then it all came together. How Miss Pentangle had spoken about her old friend, the one she claimed Mildred resembled.

 _"She just disappeared, one day. I don't want anyone else slipping through the cracks like that. That's why I want to help you, Mildred."_  

The glimpse of a photograph she'd seen when Miss Cackle had put her birth scroll away, Miss Cackle standing beside someone tall and dark and vaguely familiar.

 _"Oh, she was my first Deputy Head, before Miss Drill. She left about five years ago, rather suddenly and without explanation, and I've not heard from her since. I do hope she's all right..."_  

The vague mentions of Miss Morrigan's past, while she'd tutored Mildred over the summer, and her snide comments during the school term on mirror calls, all reserved for her potions teacher Miss Briarwood. As if she felt protective over the position.

_"I specialized in Potions, at university. I'd wanted to be a teacher, but... Well. It wasn't meant to be."_

She wasn't 'Miss Morrigan' at all.

"You're Miss Pentangle's 'Hecate'! _Hecate Hardbroom!_ Aren't you?" Mildred exclaimed, eyes wide. "But why did you run away? What happened?"

Miss Mor--no, Miss **_Hardbroom_** paled. "Her... No, I-I mean-- _yes_. Yes, that is my real name. But there isn't time to explain right now, Mildred. You and I are the only ones in the Academy whose magic isn't being monitored, correct?"

"Right." Mildred said. "So we can get Miss Cackle out of the painting, and she can save Ethel and Enid and Maud and defeat Agatha."

" _I_ can get Miss Cackle out of the painting. You're powerful, Mildred, but not powerful enough for such a spell. And I can't ask you to risk your own safety to save the school. You need to go back home." Miss Hardbroom started towards the painting, but stopped, and placed a hand on Mildred's shoulder. "Be safe, Mildred. Be _sensible_."

"You too, Miss M--Miss Ha--er. Miss." Mildred said, giving her tutor a quick hug before taking off into the corridor towards the dining hall. She had to make sure her friends (and Ethel) were safe. Even though she trusted Miss M--Hardbroom, _right_ , Miss _Hardbroom_ \--to rescue Miss Cackle, and she trusted Miss Cackle to save her friends (and Ethel) she certainly didn't trust Agatha, or Miss Gullet, or even Miss Briarwood, not to do something awful before Miss Cackle was able to stop them. Nor did she trust her other classmates not to accidentally take a bite out of one of their transformed friends.

 _A witch makes things go her way,_ or so she'd heard from a very knowledgeable woman, several times over--so Mildred would do just that, if she had to (and sure enough, she had to).

And that was how Mildred Hubble put her lessons in witchcraft into practice, though not, perhaps, in the way they'd been intended.

* * *

This is how Ada Cackle reunites with an old and dear friend.

Of course, she'd been able to see and hear everything that had passed between Mildred and Hecate--Agatha hadn't lied about that little detail, at least.

But it was one thing to look out at Hecate from within the painting, and quite another to be able to reach out and grasp her hands (and then her forearms, because Ada was a little unsteady on her feet after a couple days as a hanging portrait).

"Hecate." Ada did her level best to imbue the name with all the warmth and welcome it deserved, though her voice sounded a bit shaky to her own ears.

The woman addressed, to Ada's surprise, was still holding on to her--the Hecate she knew, the Hecate of five years ago, would already have retreated by now. But, she supposed, five years was a long time, and there was no mistaking (for she could always read her old Deputy Head like a book) that Hecate had missed her just as much as she'd missed Hecate.

A moment of heavy silence hung in the air between them, for there five years' worth of words that wanted saying. Ada settled on a soft "You had me quite worried, you know."

Hecate's gaze dropped, briefly, before returning to meet Ada's own. "I'm sorry, Ada. I never meant..."

Ada shook her head, smiling. "There's no need to apologize. You're back now. That's what matters. And in the nick of time, too, it would seem!"

It was at that moment that the annihilation spell began to take effect, and after a brief but heated argument on who ought to stay and use their magic to give the girls more time to evacuate, Ada had found herself abruptly transported outside to (relative) safety. She'd arrived at just the right moment to witness Mildred Hubble saving the school from Agatha's machinations for the third time.

After all that, it hadn't been long before a restored Gwen and Algie and the elder Hallow sisters (and Egbert, mustn't forget him now that he's the bloody Great Wizard) had materialized on the green.

It wasn't difficult to snare Agatha and Miss Gullet with a spell, but the spineless Miss Briarwood (who'd very quickly switched sides both on this occasion and when Agatha had made her play on Selection Day, and would have long been fired were it not for the absence of a suitable substitute) proved rather nimble on a broom. She'd dodged Algie's spell and fired off a few herself, then swooped down and grabbed Felicity Foxglove as a shield in the chaos, and had seemed to be about to take off in flight again when she simply... froze.

And in that same moment, a tall, dark figure appeared in front of the renegade and decidedly sub-par Potions teacher, one hand firmly clamped onto her broom handle. 

**_"Where do you think you're going, Letitia Briarwood?"_ **

_Ah_ , Ada thought with what was probably an audible sigh of relief, how she'd _missed_ Hecate's dramatic entrances.

Once everything had calmed down and she'd settled back into her office with Hecate, it had been the work of a moment to convince her to take up her former position at the school--well, several moments. A moment, first, to casually mention that Edward Blackthorn had recently met a similar fate to that of Agatha (turned into a statue after an ill-fated attack on the entire Magic Council last year), and another moment to hint at Dimity's habit of procrastinating on her paperwork (she really was even worse than Ada herself), and one more moment after that to extend the invitation proper.

Dimity had burst in shortly after to sweep Hecate up in a tight hug and beg her to step in as Deputy Head again, and Hecate had laughed in a very un-Hecate way and assured her that she would.

And so it was that they both were left alone in Ada's office again, Hecate smiling faintly in the direction of the door and rubbing her upper arms. Ada could see unshed tears gleaming in her reinstated Deputy Head's eyes.

Predictably, she refused the handkerchief Ada offered. 

"I'm all right, Ada."

It felt comfortable and familiar, this dynamic between them. Like coming back home to your own bed after a long trip abroad. Hecate was probably feeling that way too, Ada realized, and she smiled.

"Of course you are."

And that was how Ada Cackle got her best friend back for good.


	4. Hecate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is how Hecate Hardbroom ends thirty years of silence.

Everything had been set right at Cackle's, it seemed, due explanations given to the staff and students of Miss Hardbroom's disappearance and reinstatement (kept blessedly short and devoid of detail, thanks to Ada's way with words), but one thing still bothered her.

So she'd gone to speak with Mildred, under the guise of helping her unpack now that she'd been reinstated into the student body, and had asked for some clarification on what exactly had transpired between the girl and Miss Pentangle.

It hadn't taken long for Mildred to get to the heart of the matter, as per usual.

"She misses you, you know. You ought to talk to her, tell her what happened at the display and what happened five years ago. I think--Tabby, _no_ \--I think she'll understand." Mildred had said in a matter-of-fact tone that had only been undercut at the end by her dive across the bed to stop her familiar from knocking her open pencil case off the side table (she wasn't quite quick enough, unfortunately).

" _Tabby!_  ...Look, if she's not happy to hear from you, I'll eat my pointy hat."

Mildred had evidently picked up some colourful colloquialisms during her year at Cackle's--probably from Enid Nightshade, if she was anything like the description Mildred had given during her many mirror calls home. Hecate rolled her eyes, and gathered up Mildred's fallen writing utensils with a silent spell.

"Careful what you promise, Mildred, I may well hold you to that. And then I'd have to give you detention, since I think eating one's hat would be considered a dress code violation..."

Mildred made a face (the one she always made when trying to decipher whether Hecate was being sarcastic or serious) and started re-packing things in her pencil case. "I don't think you would, though, 'cause then I'd have less time to revise and so I might fail my exams and have to leave Cackle's. But you wouldn't let that happen, you'd miss me too much. Anyway, just go mirror her already."

And then it was Hecate's turn to make a face, as she reached out to tug on one of Mildred's plaits. "Don't be cheeky. I'm your teacher, remember? And I have a reputation to reestablish as a strict disciplinarian and the scariest witch in the school... Although I suppose I won't be able to intimidate _you_ , will I?"

She received a wide grin in return. "You've never had any luck with that before. And I won't tell anyone what a big softie you really are, as long as you just go and call Miss Pentangle _right now_."

Hecate's eyes had narrowed at that, and she'd made some obviously hollow threats and put up a rather feeble argument, but in the end (as always) Mildred had won out.

That was how she found herself pacing in front of the mirror in her private chambers (thankfully unsullied by the presence of Miss Briarwood's personal effects, as the odious woman had taken up a different set of rooms) and wondering how, exactly, she was going to explain herself to Pippa.

Pippa, whom she'd pushed away long ago, certain the blonde would be better off without her and her...  _feelings_.

Pippa, whom she hadn't spoken to in thirty years, and who'd likely thought her dead for the better part of five years.

Pippa, who'd offered Mildred a scholarship because the girl reminded her of Hecate, and who apparently missed her, despite the chasm of time between them.

A simple mirror call wouldn't be right. Pippa, as always, deserved better. Deserved more.

 

And so, after a brief conversation with Ada, filled with assurances that she was _not_ going to disappear this time, Hecate had set off for Pentangle's on a borrowed broomstick (she figured Dimity owed her that much, at least, considering the fact that she was about to take on approximately half of Dimity's workload).

A teacher had met her at the door and ushered her inside to wait outside of the headmistress' office, where she'd paced and worried at the skirt of her dress and attempted to rehearse the mental conversation with Pippa that she'd planned during her flight, but she hadn't enough time to get past 'hello' before the door opened.

"Really, Avery, anyone visiting at this hour-- _oh_." PIppa froze when she caught sight of her, just past the open doorway. Hecate was already frozen, having startled so at the sound of the door and Pippa's voice that all her carefully constructed greetings and explanations flew out of her mind. 'Avery', who'd escorted Hecate to the office, muttered her excuses at some point during the long, awkward silence that stretched between the other two witches and made a hasty exit.

"Hello, Pip." Hecate eventually managed, voice soft and uncertain. Pippa merely blinked at her for a moment, totally silent, and Hecate had just started to panic when suddenly, Pippa's arms were around her and Pippa's hair was tickling her cheek and Pippa's magic was surrounding her, transferring them to her rooms, and Pippa's voice was in her ear.

"I've missed you, Hiccup." Her voice was thick, tight with the effort of keeping back tears--even after all these years, Hecate could still tell when Pippa was about to cry, and she still found herself responding in kind, holding Pippa close and turning her face into the other witch's neck.

"I'm so sorry I left, Pipsqueak. Both times." Hecate's words are muffled, hardly more than a whisper, but she knows that Pippa's heard her by the way the other witch's grip on her tightens, the way her breath hitches. And the fact that Pippa hasn't let go banishes any doubts she might have had about whether or not she'd be forgiven, which is what finally causes the tears that had long been threatening at her eyes to spill out.

They stay like that for a while, just holding each other, Pippa's tears mixing with Hecate's own, until Hecate shifts and Pippa pulls back, bringing up her hands to Hecate's face.

"I've _missed_ you." She says again, softer this time, something familiar glittering behind her now red-rimmed eyes that Hecate could never quite place--or never quite dared to define.

Hecate feels somewhat as though she's been transfixed under Pippa's gaze, suddenly turned intense. Her hands have come to rest at Pippa's waist of their own accord, pulling the other witch closer, close enough that all Hecate has to do is lean in and kiss her. Which is exactly what she intends to do, but Pippa beats her to it.

Pippa's lips are soft, and Hecate can taste the salt of her tears from before, and something sweeter underneath when the kiss deepens at Pippa's prompting. It's over all too quickly for Hecate's liking (and Pippa's, she suspects, but they _did_ need to come up for air) though she'd rather lost track of time at the first swipe of Pippa's tongue against her mouth.

"I've been waiting thirty years to do that." Pippa is grinning--no, _beaming_ at her, and she still hasn't quite let go of Hecate. Her hands smooth down Hecate's long sleeves, reaching to entwine Hecate's fingers with her own.

"So have I." Hecate responds, breathless, and is dismayed to see Pippa's smile waver. But it reminds her of her original purpose--Pippa is owed an explanation as to why she left, and an explanation is what she shall receive.

"I was afraid." She begins, and Pippa nods, guides her to sit on the edge of the bed. And suddenly Hecate feels thirty years younger, remembers stolen nights in Pippa's room at school whispering under the covers, sharing secrets, sharing dreams. How afraid she'd been, as a teenager, of letting herself love Pippa. How much things have changed for them both since then.

And that chasm, that gap between past and present, doesn't seem so wide and daunting any more, Hecate realizes. She isn't afraid any more--not of herself, not of her father, not of Miss Broomhead, not of Edward Blackthorn.

So she tells Pippa everything--why she ran away from their relationship at school, why she disappeared from the magical world after so many years at Cackle's. Tells her of her certainty that her feelings wouldn't be returned (she nearly laughs at that, now, at how oblivious she'd been all this time), of her fears that they _could_ be reciprocated, and the scandal that might follow, tells her of the threats Blackthorn made to destroy Cackle's, and anyone or anything else she cared about, should she continue to reject him. How she thought she was running away, both times, to protect those around her--and perhaps she was right, the second time, though the best choice she felt she'd made in fleeing to the Ordinary world was open her door to six-year-old Mildred Hubble, who'd slowly but surely led her back home.

Pippa insists she stay the night, plies her with tea and her favourite lemon-lavender biscuits, and Hecate doesn't argue, only asks to mirror Ada to explain her prolonged absence (and to ask that she pass along an apology to Dimity for Hecate having technically stolen her best broom).

And that is how Hecate Hardbroom falls asleep for the first time in over thirty years with a smile on her face, and Pippa Pentangle in her arms.


	5. Ethel and Pippa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is how Ethel Hallow begins an awful, horrible, no-good, very bad second year at Cackle's.

It was all Mildred Hubble's fault, of course, when you thought about it. Even the parts that were technically Ethel's own fault could actually be traced back to Mildred, really, if you just thought about it.

She'd only wanted to get on the good side of the new potions teacher, after last year when she'd let Mildred pass her final exams and had given Ethel a less-than-perfect final grade. And really, she'd thought that getting rid of Mildred would have been considered a public service, not a punishable offence, given how much trouble she'd caused the year before.

The trouble was, Ethel was used to Miss Briarwood, who'd listened to her and only ever given detentions to the real culprits (which were always Mildred Hubble and/or her friends). But Miss Hardbroom, apparently, was determined to be 'fair' and 'just', and so when Mildred had spoken up about her stolen project they'd _both_ been transferred to Miss Cackle in order to sort the matter out.

It was awful to think it, considering that Miss Briarwood had turned out to be kind of a little bit completely evil, but Ethel did sort of miss her. Or at least, she missed _not_ getting detentions, and she missed the praise she always used to get for her potions. But apparently her disguise potion had "missed the point of the exercise completely", although that hadn't been the worst bit.

No, the worst bit had been that after all her efforts to rid the school of a troublemaker and all-around bad student, she'd been caught out when Miss Hardbroom had stormed into Chanting with Mildred Hubble in tow (and Ethel belatedly realized she hadn't taken Mildred's maglet to prevent her from telling a teacher about her plans), demanded Ethel and Felicity empty their bags, and promptly transferred them both to Miss Cackle's office.

Or perhaps the worst part was that after all that humiliation, Ethel had been told that she, too, would be under evaluation. That _she_ was in danger of expulsion as well! It was as though she'd done something _actually wrong_! Honestly, she'd been trying to perform a public service by getting rid of that Nightshade menace, and she ought to have been thanked for her efforts, even if the teachers didn't want to admit it.

Of course, aside from her disguise potion, she'd passed with flying colours, but that wasn't the point. The point was that she was being treated unfairly, and Mildred Hubble somehow kept avoiding detention (aside from the incident at Miss Bat's concert, which had been a real pleasure to watch--the detention-giving, not the concert so much--and a couple other instances). Worse than that, Mildred was actually doing fairly _well--_ not by Hallow standards, of course, but certainly better than last year. And the teachers were starting to trust her more, as evidenced when Miss Hardbroom had put _her_ in charge of the talent show instead of Ethel, when Maud had disappeared.

She'd refused to attend the rehearsals or performance, out of protest, which had the added benefit of giving her more time and privacy to perfect her plan for restoring Esme's powers.  _That_ , she was sure, would impress Miss Hardbroom. Not that that was the main objective, but it would be a nice bonus.

Sure, it had gone spectacularly wrong in terms of unforeseen consequences, as of course things did when Mildred Hubble was involved in any way at all, but she had, in a way, sort of achieved one goal. Miss Hardbroom had told her, while they were arguing over who ought to sacrifice their magic to the Stone, that she couldn't allow her to 'give up on the possibility of a bright future in witchcraft'. And Miss Hardbroom had thanked her, later, for her help, commended her for taking responsibility for her actions, and had almost smiled when she'd said that she would be holding her to 'a higher standard, both morally and magically' in the future.

Miss Hardbroom saw great potential in her--she'd all but said those exact words. This, coupled with the fact that Esme had magic again, was maybe almost as good as getting her parents' recognition, Ethel realized. 

And that was how Ethel Hallow decided to start on a new path in life--for the time being, at least.

* * *

 

This is how Pippa Pentangle comes to the realization that she isn't the only love of Hecate's life.

 

Things had mostly been going smoothly with Hecate, which she'd thought was fairly surprising, considering the length of time they'd spent apart. But of course Pippa wasn't going to question it, not when things were going so well.

And they really were going well, except Hecate had been so resistant to letting Pippa visit her flat. They'd meet in Hecate's rooms at Cackle's, or Pippa's rooms at Pentangles, or her summer home, but never at Hecate's flat.

Pippa had tried to be patient and to give Hecate her space, she really had, but eventually she'd gotten tired of waiting and had popped 'round to visit the Hubbles in order to figure out what was going on.

"Well met, Miss Hubble. Is Hecate in, by any chance?" She'd greeted the woman at the door, hoping desperately that she wouldn't receive the same kind of rejection she had from Hecate every time she'd asked to see her Ordinary living space, and was pleased to receive a warm smile instead.

"You must be Miss Pentangle. Hecate's gone out but she'll be back within the hour, I think, and please call me Julie. You're welcome to come inside and wait, if you'd like. I'm sure Millie will be glad to see you."

She'd liked Julie immediately.

Over the course of the afternoon, she'd chatted with Mildred and Julie, learning more than Hecate had ever deigned to tell her about her life in the Ordinary world. But one thing had still eluded her (made simultaneously clearer and more muddled by the obvious fondness in Julie's voice), so when she'd made to leave, she'd gently pulled Julie out into the hallway after saying her goodbyes to Mildred.

"Did--I'm sorry, this is rather an awkward question, but--did you and Hecate ever... What I mean to say is, were you two involved?"

Julie shook her head. "Not really. We, uh, we sort of almost started dating, but it didn't really go anywhere. Honestly, though, I'm just glad she's a part of my life, and I'd like to think she feels the same. I'm certainly happy that you two found your way back to each other. She really loves you, you know?"

Pippa did know that, and after another couple visits under the pretense of helping Mildred with her summer project, a somewhat awkward dinner out with the Hubbles _and_ Hecate together, and a few conversations with Hecate over weekly chess games (particularly after they'd gotten into the sherry), she'd known a lot more than that.

After a while, Hecate had grown rather... _short_ , with her visits and mirror calls. It was as though she felt she'd said something she shouldn't have, and was afraid of Pippa pressing the subject further. She hadn't, and she shouldn't have worried, for she'd still told Pippa all that she needed to know without actually speaking the words aloud. And it wasn't as though her opinion of Hecate had changed.

She'd always loved Hecate for her brilliant mind, yes, but even more for her not-so-secretly tender heart. And she really did like the Hubbles, not least because of how much they clearly cared for Hecate.

Besides which, the concept of a polyamorous relationship wasn't at all foreign, thanks to the lovely Scottish couple she'd met and briefly loved during one eventful year at college, but Pippa still found herself at a loss as to how to proceed, now that she realized she'd have to be the one to explain this concept to Hecate.

The not-knowing, and the anxiety it produced, made their mirror calls even more tense, and that tension was not at all helped by Pippa's surprise arrival at Cackle's for her modern witching workshops.

(And really, she knew she should have mirrored ahead, but she'd been so absorbed in planning her workshops and in wondering whether it would be better to broach the subject of polyamory in person or over a mirror call that by the time she thought to do so it was far too late at night, and disturbing Hiccup's sleep had always been a risky move...)

Sure, she'd expected a colder reception than usual, especially for having shown up unannounced. But _this_ , Pippa thought as she felt the uncomfortable jolt of an unexpected transfer, was not at all how she'd expected the day to go.

...Well, maybe she'd sort of been expecting to get into an argument with Hecate, actually, given the circumstances. She'd prepared herself for the possibility, at least, and had decided against bringing up the state of their relationship, or Hecate's feelings for Julie (and vice versa), until things had settled down at Cackle's.

That is what she'd resolved, in her mind. Her mouth, however, seemed to have other ideas, and she couldn't seem to stop herself from blurting out "Why didn't you just tell me that you're also in love with Julie Hubble?"

Hecate froze. Pippa froze. Something made a noise behind Ada's desk in the heavy silence, and Pippa's panicked mind was sent racing on an entirely new track. Hecate had told her often enough of Mildred Hubble's propensity for meddling, and getting into places she shouldn't.

_...Did she--it couldn't be--but if Mildred **had** \--oh, Goddess, if she'd **overheard** \--_

Fortunately, it seemed to have been Ada's familiar behind the desk, not Mildred, but Pippa was still on edge--as was Hecate, who promptly transferred the two of them to her own quarters for privacy.

"I don't understand." Hecate's voice was barely a whisper. "I--Pippa--I don't want you to think that--"

Pippa knows her girlfriend well enough to know where Hecate's mind is headed, and when to cut in in order to prevent her thoughts from spiraling downwards.

"I know that you love me. And I should hope you know by now that I love you too. And there's nothing that could ever change how we feel about each other. But if you also have feelings for Julie, and she for you, I want you to know that you have my support in... well, pursuing those feelings. If that's what you want."

Hecate merely blinks at her, for a moment, taking in Pippa's words, but before she can respond with whatever objection she's undoubtedly come up with, Pippa presses on.

"It won't change our relationship, really, if you do. It would be an expansion, of sorts. Adding Julie to the mix. I don't want you to have to choose between anyone, I want you to have all the love you deserve. And you _do_ deserve it, Hiccup, even if you don't believe that."

There is a vast and tense silence while Hecate takes a deep breath, and Pippa holds hers.

"...You know," Hecate begins, haltingly, reaching for Pippa's hand. "I've read that polyamorous relationships were quite common within covens in centuries past. So, while the concept sounds awfully _modern_ , it's actually quite _traditional_ , when you think about it."

 

There's a look in Hecate's eyes that Pippa knows well, uncertain but hopeful. She'd been thinking about this, too, hadn't she--all she'd been waiting for was approval, both from Pippa and herself. Funny, how they both were so often on the same mental track, yet it always seemed to take them so long to figure that out. Something they'd improve upon with time, Pippa hoped.

"Modern yet traditional? That does sound an awful lot like _us_." Pippa can't fight the grin that breaks across her face, and Hecate responds with a shy smile of her own, and they stay like that for a long but comfortable moment until someone outside knocks rather loudly and frantically on Hecate's door and the moment is broken.

But Hecate's mood, Pippa notes, remains much lighter than it had this morning, even when she's chastising Mildred and her friends for their vigilante investigation into the petition against Miss Cackle. And yet another weight is lifted off Hecate's shoulders when the truth is revealed and Ada is reinstated as headmistress.

That leaves them only with the issue of how to open up a discussion with Julie--Pippa offers to lead the conversation, or to at least be present, but Hecate surprises her by asking to try on her own, and after promising that she'll mirror Pippa if she needs help figuring out what to say, decides on waiting until winter break.

Hecate makes some wry remark about how she'll probably lose her nerve, and Pippa counters with a bet that she'll do just the opposite and confess to Julie before the first snowflake of winter hits the ground.

She's quite pleased to see, when she mirrors Hecate to check in after that chaotic Halloween, that Julie is on the other side of the frame too--not just because she's won the bet, of course, but because Hecate seems so _happy--_ tired, yes, but happy. Happy (and tired) enough to agree to Pippa's request without an argument, in fact...

And that was how Pippa Pentangle won herself a new (very pink) hat from her girlfriend, and gained two new additions to her family in the form of Julie and Mildred Hubble.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> UGH OKAY I am so sorry this took so long, but I found it waaaay harder than I expected to write from Pippa's POV. Hopefully Julie's will be easier, since she's up next... Either way, I'm determined to have it up before the end of October. Stay tuned~


	6. Julie (again)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is how Julie Hubble gets herself a witch for a girlfriend.

In the post-thaw Halloween celebration at Cackle's, looking across the great hall at Hecate, Julie can't help thinking of the past.

Of that night.

Mildred, almost ten years old at the time, had just gone to bed, and Julie had been left alone with 'Rose'.

They'd established a kind of routine, after the first year or so. Whenever Rose needed to watch Millie after school, if Julie got home in time for dinner they'd all three eat together, and no matter what, after Millie went to sleep, the two women would share a drink, watch a bit of TV, and talk.

It started with simple discussions about Mildred, her drawings, her day at school, that sort of thing. Safe, easy conversations, since Rose clearly adored the girl, and Julie was always happy to talk and to hear about her daughter. Gradually, it opened up into questions about one another's day, or childhood memories, or anything else they could think of, though it had felt at first like pulling teeth to get the other woman to actually talk about herself.

But Julie had persisted, had invited her to stay for just one glass of wine one night, since she wouldn't let Julie pay her properly for watching Mildred, and that was how they'd eventually ended up there, sitting together on the sofa in companionable quiet as they had now done so many times before. Just a normal night for the two of them, and yet...

"Millie's been doing loads better in math recently." Julie had muted the television after a while, turning to refill Rose's glass. "Thanks for that, Rosie, I know you've been helping her."

The other woman smirked faintly. "It's no trouble. And I saw, she showed me her homework from last week as soon as she got home today. She was very excited. Although I'm not entirely sure where she got the idea that if she improved, she'd be allowed chocolate for dinner..."

"I... Might have implied some things. To help motivate her. She was quite distraught, you know, and I couldn't bear it." Julie grinned sheepishly. "Sorry. You, ah, didn't actually--?"

Rose tried--and failed--to suppress a laugh. "Goodness, no! She was so put out, though, I ended up promising that I'd bring her a chocolate croissant from work tomorrow. I hope that doesn't spoil your dinner plans..."

"Ah, that's all right. I'll figure it out." Julie bumped her shoulder against Rose's arm. "She's got us both wrapped around her little fingers, eh?"

"She does indeed, but I'm not complaining." Rose's soft smile spoke of unconditional fondness, and Julie was so grateful that she'd found someone to help with Mildred that truly cared for her, for them both, and she wanted to tell Rose that, but when the other woman looked up at her again, there was such warmth in her eyes, and she was so _close_ \--and suddenly, Julie was kissing her.

Rose had soft lips and softer hair, and the taste of the wine they'd both been drinking was still on her mouth, but most importantly, she was kissing Julie back, one hand winding into her hair.

It was glorious, that moment that stretched out between them, until Rose broke away.

"Sorry, I'm sorry--I can't--We shouldn't..." She stammered, drawing back until she was on the other end of the couch. "Not... Not yet. I-I don't think..."

"It's all right, love--" Julie winced at her own words. "Rose. It's all right. I... Look, I like you. I like having you around. A lot. And I'm happy just to have you around, if that's all you're comfortable with. I'm sorry that I pushed..."

"No. No, I wanted..." Rose bit and worried her lip for a long moment before speaking again, more quietly this time. "I like you too. Very much. But I can't think about--about having _that kind_ of relationship. As much as I might want to. Think about having that. With you. It wouldn't be right, for me to... To pursue it."

* * *

 

Julie had chalked her words up to internalized homophobia or fears left over from a bad past relationship at the time, and was quick to assure Rose that they could stay friends until she felt ready to take that step into a romantic relationship, if she ever did--but looking back, it was clear that 'Rose' had primarily been feeling guilty about the myriad of secrets she'd been keeping from the Hubbles.

...The revelation of which hadn't stopped Julie from feeling the same way about Hecate as she had about the woman's Ordinary alter-ego. Which turned out to be something of a problem, when Pippa Pentangle came into the picture.

The real trouble was, Julie liked Hecate's girlfriend, and she had from the start. She thought Hecate and Pippa were an excellent match for each other, in fact, and she was glad they made each other happy. She wouldn't dream of coming between them--it was just that sometimes she wished it was _her_ Hecate was dating. Sometimes it hurt, seeing Hecate blush and duck her head when Pippa called her 'darling'. Sometimes she fell asleep dreaming that Hecate was curled up beside her.

But she did her level best to ignore that sort of thing--only it wasn't so easy to ignore how her stomach dropped at the sight of Hecate frozen solid, the day the Founding Stone was broken. And it was equally as difficult to ignore the tightness in her chest when she saw Hecate gingerly draw Mildred aside to check on her during the Halloween celebration after the whole ordeal was over. Or the way her pulse jumped when she felt Hecate's hand on her arm, and heard her voice in her ear, a moment later. Honestly, Julie was so startled she hadn't quite paid attention to the question she'd been asked--she just nodded, and suddenly the three of them had transferred outside in front of an unlit bonfire.

"An old Halloween tradition." Hecate explained, uncharacteristic shyness in the way she stood, fidgeting. "I wanted to share it with you. Both of you."

Mildred leaped at the chance to learn more about magical traditions, and beamed from ear to ear while Hecate led her through a ceremony and chant to light the fire. After they were through, however, it was clear that Mildred was itching to return to the party, and she took off like a shot once she'd been excused.

Which left Julie alone with Hecate, who looked suddenly as nervous as Julie now felt.

"I, um. I'm glad you were here today. And I'm glad you're still here." Hecate began, and took a couple halting steps closer, which was good, because Julie could barely hear her.

"When I--when my magic was drained, and I froze..." She looked so distraught that Julie couldn't resist the urge to put a hand on her shoulder. "In that moment, all I could think was that I wished I'd been able to... To tell you how I felt. Well. Feel. About you."

It was Julie's turn to freeze, it seemed--despite the fire beside them, there was ice in her veins. "What--what do you mean? You--but you've got Pippa, I thought..."

Hecate interrupted her, and it was as though the floodgates had broken with how quickly she pressed on. "I've spoken to Pippa, at length, about-- _us_ , all of us, and she's given me, _us_ , the two of us, her blessing should we wish to, er. Become romantically involved. And I do--I mean, of course, this is all assuming that you are, um. Amenable to the possibility. Which I very much hope you are...?"

"Oh." Julie managed, after a while. " _Oh_... Hang on, really? Like, this isn't some sort of Halloween trick, is it, because if it is, Hecate Hardbroom--"

"I don't do _tricks_ , Julie Hubble. I assure you I'm being completely serious." The way Hecate's nose scrunched up when she frowned in that moment was so bloody _precious_ that Julie laughed, and pulled her in for a lingering kiss.

"...That's a yes, by the way." Julie said when they finally came up for air, and couldn't help but smirk at how profusely Hecate was blushing.

A smile worked its way across Hecate's face, brilliant and unrestrained. Beautiful, Julie thought. Her beautiful girlfriend.

Hecate pulled her back in for an embrace, arms wrapping around Julie's waist while she rested her head on Julie's shoulder. When she spoke again after a long moment, Julie could feel Hecate's lips brushing against her neck.

"Would... Will you stay, tonight? With me?" Julie must have made some sort of audible reaction, because Hecate pulled back suddenly to look in her eyes, faintly panicked and somehow blushing even more deeply than before. "Just--just to sleep, this time! I didn't mean to imply--I mean, I _would_ , but--"

Julie leaned in to kiss her again, softly but surely. "Gladly, love."

Hecate smiled, and went in for another kiss as she transferred them both back inside.

And that was how Julie Hubble fell asleep with Hecate in her arms for the first time, but certainly not the last.


End file.
